


Makes My Head Pirouette

by molten_cake



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: But Gavin is also a little shit so it's ok, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gavin Reed is Bad at Feelings, Him being trans is NOT a plot point it's just a hc, Internal Monologue, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nines is both polite and a bitch, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Trans Gavin Reed, fake dating au, oblivious gavin, someone help nines he'll suffer emotionally
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-01-26 12:27:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21374152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/molten_cake/pseuds/molten_cake
Summary: Gavin and Nines are forced into faking a relationship after three androids, who were previously in a relationship with humans, show up dead. Unfortunately for them, the nature of their own relationship slowly begins to shift the more they pretend to love each other. Maybe they'll uncover more than a murder mystery during the course of their mission?
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 16
Kudos: 68





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
I just want you all to know, this fanfic is pure self indulgence. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I'm enjoying writing it.  
I've had this sitting in my drafts for months now, it's time I stop being a little bitch and post it.  
ALSO, this chapter is pretty small compared to the next two. I didn't want to overload the first one with information, so I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

Sometimes, Gavin really hated his life.

Actually, scratch that. Who was he trying to fuck with? He hated his life on a pretty moderate level at all times. However, some days really liked to test his already short fused patience.

It all started with a simple call to Fowler’s office. Nothing new there. Ever since the RK900 android had flaunted his plastic ass into the precinct and been assigned to none other than Gavin Reed himself, his trips to the large glass room started to be pretty much constant. A small jab that quickly became a shouting match, lukewarm coffee being poured down his head, hot coffee being thrown at Nines _ ' _ head… Well, it was a surprise none of them had gained a disciplinary paper yet. Gavin wondered if they were so good at case solving that the bullshit they pulled was better for the DPD than losing them as employees.

Gavin wondered if their little disagreements would ever come to an end. All those hopes of calmer days were crushed by this shit Fowley just decided to pull. Gavin could just imagine him waking up in the morning, taking a shit as he went through his precious book titled “How To Piss Off My Subordinates”, before coming up with the worst idea that had ever crossed the precinct’s life. It was a feat really, considering Connor was allowed to keep working there after stealing evidence. And abusing his android abilities. Among other things. 

Anyway, back to the brilliant idea. Said idea was Fowler raising from his comfortable looking chair at the butt-crack of morning, marching out of his door and stopping with a hand on the wall, shouting his and Nines’ name before getting back into his overpriced office chair.

Which would be fine. Annoying as hell, but fine. It wouldn’t be the first time he and that walking sentient toaster had walked up the stairs and past the glass door.

But as Gavin said before, life fucking sucked. And oh boy was this day no different.

“Excuse me, what did you just say? I think an ambulance drove past the precinct and fucked up my hearing for a bit.”

Fowler just kept on staring at him like a man who hated his job, like he was mapping all the choices he did throughout his life that lead him to sit in front of Gavin at this exact moment in time. It faintly reminded him of the look he saw on coffee shop workers at five pm - the epitome of “fuck my life”. He’d feel sorry, wasn’t Fowley such a dick.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Reed.” he slid the tablet across his desk, a document neatly typed on it with a few media attachments “You and RK900 were deemed  _ perfect _ for this case. For some holy miracle, despite giving me early baldness, you’ve solved every case that came into your hands so far. This is a sensitive case that requires that sort of background.” he paused for a bit, a clear show of patience the man didn’t really have, before giving a calculated tip of his head “Unless, of course, you feel like you’re not up for it.”

He knew it was a trick. Yet-

“What? Arresting some bar-stalking, android murderer freak? I’m more than up for it.”

The problem, however, laid on the path he needed to take in order to reach that objective.

He grabbed the tablet and stuck his eyes on the case, unwilling to look back at Nines. _ No. _ He wouldn’t be able to face the plastic fucker if he really went through with this.

So he avoided that situation altogether and read the file. Two times just to be sure.

There were three reports of androids ending up dead - or, whatever the android equivalent for death was -, all in the same area, and all being romantically related to some human. The other possible similarity was that all of them had frequented some bar named Red Ginny the night before their corpses showed up.

The corpses were another matter entirely. Their thirium pumps were gone, and there were several cuts across their faces and chest. The last known victim - an AX400 named Green - had her entire chest bashed into her body, wires popping out in a way that made his stomach churn.

For a split second, he imagined Nines in her place, with a blank look on his face. Somehow, the image wasn’t as satisfying as he hoped.

He closed the file and looked at Fowler again.

This would be a pretty decent case to work with, were it not for the fact it had been previously investigated by none other than Hank and his little lapdog. And, of course, the little task he and Nines were assigned to.

“And why are we on this now? Wasn’t Hank and his tamagotchi on it?”

“They received a solid lead on their own Red Ice case, so they won’t be able to go undercover. As you  _ already _ know.”

Undercover. A mission that would need to take place throughout several days if they wanted to learn anything, and one that would force them to actively call attention to their person.

“Yeah, yeah, me and Nines over here also-”

“ _ Reed _ , you and your partner don’t have any urgent matters to attend to right now. And you’re the only ones suited for the job since, ya know, he’s an android, so you’re gonna get up from this chair, stop whining, put on some clean clothes and get on the case. Need I repeat myself?”

The only good part would be the nice hotel the DPD would give them, since Gavin did not want a creep showing up at his own door. But let’s be honest, the Detroit Police Department wasn’t that rich, and with the entire Android Revolution their budget had been severely cut, so not even the hotel would be that much of an improvement over his cheap apartment.

Gavin looked at the file again. Androids, human lovers, a bar.

_ The bar _ . For some reason, their guy always decided to be a murderous creep on the same place, always leaving behind the same clue, and no one had found him yet. Either Hank and Connor were blind, or the guy was actually a smart criminal, despite the brute and messy modus operandi.

He sighed, and before he could open his mouth, Nines finally opened his for the first time during the entire conversation.

“We’ll get right into it.”

And that’s how Gavin found himself at his apartment, throwing on some red shirt he hadn’t worn in almost five years, cursing the world and any god up there that was having the laugh of its poor miserable existence at him.

He and that stupid, prude plastic fucker would need to fake a relationship. For god knows how long. He could feel smoke coming out of his ears at the thought. Fuck Hank and Connor for bailing on this - he knew the old pervert would surely enjoy this mission far more than he ever would. He’d just  _ love _ to get a hand of that hard, plastic robot ass.

Great. Now he had pictures of Hank and Connor together on his head. He gave a disgusted groan as he sat down and tied his shoes. 

Nines was standing by the doorway, eyes glued on him, waiting. Always waiting. He was wearing that high-neck shirt of his along with the Cyberlife jacket he seemed to fancy so much, as intimidating and off-putting as ever.

They’d be spotted before Gavin could even ask for a drink, and not in a good, case-related way.

“You gonna walk in there like that? What? Want our guy to realize he fucked up and that we’re onto him? And don’t you have a bag to pack, or has the fact we’ll be staying at a hotel for at least five days passed your wires?” those were probably the first words leaving his mouth after they left the precinct. First words besides, you know, cussing at everything that moved.

Nines blinked, LED spinning yellow for a second before turning back to blue. Gavin guessed that meant he was thinking. Or processing. Or whatever robots did instead of pondering what they should say next.

“I don’t own any other clothing, Detective. But I suppose I could leave the coat behind.”

Something inside of Gavin twisted in an unpleasant, unwanted way. He found himself biting the inside of his lip, staring at Nines up and down.

This guy had deviated almost seven months ago, and he still hadn’t found it in himself to buy some decent shit? A shirt? A new pair of trousers? A jacket that didn’t make him look like a product straight out of a fabric?

_ He is a product _ , his brain supplied. Somewhat, that didn’t stick well with him too.

“Yeah, it’s not just the coat.” he got up, kicking at the floor two times with each shoe “Your whole get-up is hideous. Have you ever thought of, I dunno, buying clothes? Personalizing yourself?”

Nines actually looked offended at the idea, brows scrunching a faction as his LED spinned - yellow, yellow, yellow.

“I like my clothes just fine, Detective. I see no need for new ones.”

“Yeah, and I like my Venom sweater, but you don’t see me wearing it every day. Do you even wash that shit?”

He moved to his closet, hand freezing for a moment before he opened the doors. He couldn’t believe what he was about to do, and he could feel his blood pressure rising. Nines probably noticed, the little android freak, always analyzing him.

There was a pregnant pause as Gavin dug through his clothes in order to find something that would fit the android. An old DPD shirt from his training days, three chafted t-shirts he wore around the house, a Pride2023 shirt, a brown wool sweater gifted to him by Tina that he never wore-

“I suppose you’re right. I just don’t see the appeal in personalizing myself through fashion. Although, to answer your question, I do own a washing machine. My clothes are always sterile and pristine.”

“Sterile and pristine - are we still talking about clothing, or baby products?”

He pulled out a black V neck from a pile. It was incredibly un-rumpled and clean by his standards. Next he pulled some old black jeans ripped at the knees and threw both items at Nines, who caught them swiftly before giving them an analytical stare, LED yellow.

“Don’t just stare, put that shit on before I change my mind and force you to stop by a shop beforehand. Which we fucking will at some point, by the way. Can’t believe I’ll need to go shopping with you like a nanny.”

Nines looked at him, eyes widening.

“You’ll let me borrow these, Detective?”

There it was again, the stupid accelerated heartbeat and burning cheeks. 

“I just did.”

Nines stood unblinking for longer than necessary. It made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Then, slowly and predatory like a cat, the android’s lips stretched into a smug grin that belonged everywhere but on a stuck up android’s face. 

“Oh my,  _ Gavin _ , what a nice and caring  _ boyfriend _ you are.”

It made his blood boil.

“Shut the fuck up!”

He threw the nearest thing at him - his phone. Nines caught it, because of course he did, and went to take off his jacket.

Gavin left the room. He didn’t need to see what Nines looked like below his clothes. Actually, he’d be happy if he never found out. Hearing him call him his boyfriend was enough, no matter how much of a mockery it was intended to be.

.

You know, Gavin was fairly confident on himself and his sexuality. He was well over thirty, had been raised in an excellent era with quick access to information as a teen, and he also was the type of guy to punch you in the face if you so much as looked at him funny.

So he was pretty sure he was a mature, adult gay man with his kinks sorted out, no surprises to be found inside his metaphorical closet.

He was wrong. He was so wrong.

The moment Nines stepped into the living room, he could feel all that fragile, paper-like confidence drifting through the window as he forcibly glue his jaw to his head.

He would kill the person at Cyberlife that designed Nines. He was making him, Gavin Reed, loop the words no homo on repeat as he took a moment to stare at his partner.

Gavin had never seen so much skin exposed on the android before. He was starting to believe he was just metal where the eyes couldn’t see. Clearly a wrong idea. His arms had a light muscle definition - not nearly as much as Gavin’s did, but it was there. His collarbone was exposed, as well as all of his pale, tall neck. Looking down again, he could see pale skin where the jeans ripped, as well as his ankles.

Nines was picking at the bottom of his a bit too tight shirt as he frowned. Or, as much as Nines let the frown pass - a simple, small twist of eyebrows as his lips pursed more than usual, eyes cast down as his LED circled yellow.

Gavin pursed his lips as well, a lump on his throat as his ribs felt like they were over-expanding. This was the damned Cyberlife artist’s fault. Fuck anyone who got paid to make Nines easy on the eyes. Somehow, him in casual clothes was less discreet than him on his manufactured bland robotic outfit.

Gavin took a deep breath just as Nines finally looked up.

“I’m not sure I quite like it, Detective.”

Not sure he-

Seriously, fuck this dude. 

“Oh, shut up. At least you don’t look as trashy as usual. Though you really shouldn’t go out there with that stick-up-your-ass face.”

Yellow, yellow, yellow.

“It’s unprofessional and uncomfortable to wear something so revealing-”

“Yeah, and I feel uncomfortable in these shoes. Get a move on, we gotta go.”

And Nines had the audacity to look at him with his blank expression, the one that worked exactly like puppy eyes would. Yes, it was weird. Yes, Gavin was aware he had a sea of problems swimming around in his head.

“Okay, fine, take a jacket, whatever. Just hurry the fuck up already!”

Nines immediately picked his brown coat, the one he loved very much, as his LED spun to blue - the manipulative bastard.

“Pick any _ except _ that one. I don’t want your greedy little robot-hands on it.”

“But I quite like this one, Detective. Besides, the room is too far away, and choosing another one would take out precious time we could be spending going to Red Ginny. And checking in at the hotel. My calculations show it raises our chances of catching traffic in about 30%.”

It… made sense, Gavin guessed. Gavin also guessed it as a load of bullshit. All his other jackets were an offence to Nines’ proper android tastes anyway, the android was probably just trying to be polite about it for the first time on his short existence.

That, or he actually wanted to wear that one. But that managed to be even stupider than the whole undercover mission, so he quickly scraped it off his mind.

He tried not to think anything of it when Nines lifted the jacket and slipped it into his arms, patting the material down as he straightened it. It was baggy on him, going down his hands and puffing at the shoulders. 

Gavin grabbed his bag and walked out of the apartment, teeth digging into his inner lip and tongue craving the sweet release of nicotine.

.

He parked the car just outside the hotel, the sky still bright despite being nearly 8PM. He kept his hands on the wheel as he took a deep breath.

The moment he stepped out, he’d be a completely different person who apparently liked to stick his fingers into machinery. Or get his ass wrecked by one. Did Nines even have a dick? God, he really hated the fact that he had wondered that.

He and Nines had gone over their identities on the ride there, the conversation occasionally escalating when a certain detail just seemed too awful for it to have ever been included. His name would apparently be Neil Newbon, which was weird and reminded him of the superhero movies he watched. Seriously? N and N? Give him a break.

The best, however, was Nines’ name. It was Richard. Like the fucking dick he was. It made him amused.

What did not make him amused was the fact that he was about to be in a relationship with said dick. He tapped the steering wheel twice before Nines, the totally-not-overbearing android he was, spoke up.

“Did you forget something, Detective? Or do you perhaps require water?”

“Shove the water down your throat,” he mumbled, turning to him.

Nines was tilting his head at him, almost in a Connor-like fashion. He looked almost human wearing his clothes, were it not for the LED. And the perfectly combed hair. It made him want to shove an entire bottle of whisky down his throat, made him crave the bitter burn of alcohol, anything to make the experience less insanity inducing. 

“Look, let’s get a few things straight-” he held back the need to make a joke at that, he was 37, thank you very much “You do not kiss me, ever. Got it?”

Nines only blinked. Impassive. Machine like.

“Isn’t kissing an activity couples do? Wouldn’t it be more convincing if we-”

“Yeah, but there’s a thing called boundaries. So keep that mouth away from mine, get it? Who knows what kind of shit you’ve put in it.”

“My mouth is sterilized every day, Detective.”

“That’s another thing,” he raised a finger in in Nines’ direction, watching with satisfaction as the android shifted back on his sit “Don’t fucking call me Detective. Want the word to reach our murder?”

Nines’ LED spun yellow once before settling on blue.

“Of course. I’m not craft,  _ Neil _ .”

The name tasted weird on the android’s tongue. Voice box. Microphone. Audio speaker. Gavin was really shitty with android anatomy, despite his brother being the one who created it.

“Good,  _ Richard _ . Now let’s go. And carry my bag like a good little boyfriend, will you?”

Nines had the audacity to roll his eyes as he opened the car door.

“I’m your boyfriend, not your maid.” And he went for the door. 

Gavin cussed and quickly climbed out of the car, kicking the door close. He fetched his bag from the back and gave a little run towards the hotel’s door, pushing it open. Because of course he had to push it open, the DPD couldn’t give him the courtesy of automatic doors in a decade where everything was automatic. Their budget was deep in shit.

The hotel itself wasn’t anything fancy. It had a small lobby, brown walls, and a large desk where Nines was already at. Gavin walked up to him, reminding himself to cuss Nines out later for just barging in without him.

On a second note, they really should have brought another bag for Nines, just for show. Even if the android didn’t have any particular belongings. Talk about them being people.

“-Newbon, you say?”

“Yes.”

He stopped by Nines’ side and took a peek at the receptionist. She was looking over her computer for their booking, her round glasses nearly falling off her thin nose. He took the moment to shoot a small glare at Nines, who answered it with a raise of his brow. 

“Neil Newbon, yes-” she looked up and stopped, eyes widening when they set on him “Oh, hello sir. Are you with him?”

“Yeah, I’m Neil.” he said, flashing her a smile. And then, as good measure and to seal the deal “This is my partner, Richard. Did you pose as me again?” 

Nines’ unimpressed look turned into a small smile, his hands still behind his back.

“Of course not. I simply said we had a reservation under your name.” he turned to the receptionist “Do you have our door’s number?”

She nodded, reaching out for a drawer on her desk and taking our a white and blue card from it, handing it to Gavin.

“Of course. It’s the 306. I remind you that checkouts need to be done before 2PM.”

They both nodded as Gavin took the card.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

A week with a paid hotel, where he’d get a salary by eating out and partying. With Nines analysing suspects and Gavin using his human experience, they’d probably figure the case out sooner than Fowler expected.

He just had to hold through.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thanks to everyone who has commented so far! Hope you enjoy this chapter.

"_Oh fuck me _." 

Screw holding through. Gavin would have an aneurysm before their first suspect even blinked. He needed a fucking cigarette. Or two. While he was at it, maybe he'd even finish the whole pack and die of lung cancer. 

He could be exaggerating, but fuck that too. He was exhausted and starving. He had the right to over react. 

Somehow, between getting assigned the case and fitting himself, his bag and a tall overrated roomba into a small elevator, he had completely missed one crucial fact on the operation._ They were to pose as a couple _ . People were supposed to _ believe they were a couple _ , even attendants. Which meant that, like normal functional lovers, they’d need not only to share a room, but a fucking bed. He really hoped Nines didn't need to sleep, or so help him god. They already had to spend every breathing moment together for at least a week, he didn’t need _ that _ stacked on top of it. 

He didn’t know how it had slipped his mind. Perhaps he really was buying into the oblivious faith that Fowler had taken pity on him and gotten them a room with two beds, but no. There it sat, horizontal to the door, a major queen sized bed with red sheets and plush pillows.

He tried not to show how affronted he really felt about that. The last thing he wanted was Nines picking at his professionalism or asking if he was that bad of cop he couldn't sleep with an android beside him. 

He gave a long sigh that nearly popped his lungs. At least the view was nice, he thought as he threw the bag on the bed. On the side opposite to the door a huge window rose between beige walls, framing a plaza untouched by the technological times it sat on. By approaching it, he realized he could see the street leading to Red Ginny, as well as a convenience store a few feet to the left of the hotel.

Everything was so close. This killer was awful at pretending he didn’t live nearby. However, he was also incredibly skilled, having yet to be caught despite the alarming amount of physical evidence. 

When he stopped gazing and looked back, Nines was still standing by the door, staring at the window with a faraway expression. Having him on a hotel room in casual clothes was even weirder than the mission itself. He looked almost awkward, turning his head to the side and hiding the spinning LED, a few strands of hair curling over his forehead. He was still wearing his jacket, the fabric puffing up around the shoulders and making him look larger than he was.

He looked almost human. Yet he'd never age, would never die unless deactivated or completely destroyed. The perfect substitute for when humanity eventually screwed up big time.

The constipated look on his face made him seem oblivious of that fact, as if working outside an office was the worst affront to his being. 

“Can you stop looking like a lost puppy for five seconds?” he said. 

Nines looked down at him, eyes grey in the white light filtering through the room. His pupils were slightly bigger than usual, as if the advanced cameras incorporated in them were focusing on him. It sent a shiver down his spine. 

“I’m not. I just don’t see what else I could be doing while I wait for you to unpack.” Nines said, blankly, all signs of awkwardness leaving his body and hiding behind an emotionless posture. 

_ This _ was why he hated him. Connor, despite being a major pain in the ass, had a purpose. He had wants and needs. He had ambitions and activities outside of work, even if those generally revolved around either Hank or the dog he lived with. Hell, he more often than not looked _ alive _. 

Nines, however? Nines seemed to only live for his job and to annoy Gavin. And since Gavin was part of the job, he guessed there was really only one thing the guy ever did. Gavin would pity him, were it not for the fact this was Nines he was talking about.

He clicked his tongue.

“How about getting nice and comfy? Or watching TV?” he looked to the side of the bedroom facing the bed, with a built in wardrobe and a medium sized television, a small desk resting below it. On top of it was an old phone and a remote. He reached for the latter and threw it at Nines, who swiftly caught it “Ever heard of entertainment? Not everything has to be written on a report for you to do it, jackass.”

Surprisingly, Nines actually obeyed. He sat at the end of the bed and turned on the TV, keeping it on the channel it was. A documentary about marine biology was passing. Gavin guessed there were worse things to watch.

He unpacked the little shit he had brought and placed it inside the closet. Since it was getting chilly, he took a black sweater out of the pile and fitted it over his shirt, putting his cigarettes and hotel room card on the front pocket.

He checked the clock. 8:30PM. It seemed later, with how many files they had to fill before getting into the car. His stomach ached after surviving the entire day on coffee and granola bars, competing with his brain due to android and fake romance related stress. 

He took one last glance at Nines before taking a deep breath and shifting his mindset from Gavin Reed to Detective Reed. 

Two of the couples had eaten on a nearby restaurant relatively shortly before the incidents. The other one had checked in at the hotel. The entire case was connected between the bar, the restaurant, and the hotel. The culprit showed untamed rage and a strong set of anti-android beliefs due to the violent nature of the crimes, yet the lack of suspects outside of coincidental evidence showed he was contained enough not to raise suspicions. 

Nines was a walking computer who could do endless lists on his brain. With that bonus, Reed wouldn't need to bring his work tablet with him. So far, the circumstantial evidence only pointed towards the owners of the establishments, but when questioned by Hank they weren't even worth a dime as witnesses. 

His stomach grumbled. Gavin guessed the restaurant was as good as any place to start. Besides, he needed a decent dinner instead of the insipid hotel ones if he was gonna survive this.

“Let’s go, tin can. I’m starving.”

Nines took a second too long to turn off the TV. The sound of dolphins cut off, and off they went. 

-

At first he thought Nines would be decent at this. He was an android with a level of stealth so high that he’d often appear behind Gavin without him noticing, only to talk and scare the daylights out of him. He had guessed stealth, along with a vast social protocol Nines rarely used, covered undercover as well.

He was wrong. So wrong. And not in a good kind of way, like _ “oh, Nines is actually more than decent at this! He’s the greatest fake date of all!”. _ Oh no. It was more in a _ “holy shit will he make me have to do all the work” _ kind of wrong.

They were sitting there, waiting for Gavin’s food, and by anyone’s eyes they could be just two old pals talking about the football game passing on TV. Nines sat nonchalantly in front of him, sipping his bubblegum thirium drink, looking around the restaurant like the décor was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

“Dude, at least pretend you enjoy looking at me.” he said through gritted teeth.

Nines blinked and turned to him, as if the mere fact Gavin had spoken to him was a surprise. Gavin rolled his eyes and reached across the table, taking Nines’ hand on his own. The android’s LED instantaneously turned yellow, cycling there for a full spin before turning back to solid blue. He looked down at their joined hands and turned his own, intertwining their fingers, eyes appearing to be scanning the way they locked around each other. Gavin found himself gulping.

His skin was warmer than he thought it would be. Still colder than a human’s, but not metallic chill. The techs at CyberLife had thought of everything. If Connor was made for hunting deviants and Nines was his successor, there was no need for him to have soft hands, yet soft they were.

“I suppose public displays of affection are ideal for this mission. I was just unsure on what was considered within your area of comfort, so I decided to wait for your move.”

That was suspiciously considerate of him. Gavin didn’t trust that.

“So you just had no clue what to do.”

“Incorrect.” Nines said, far too quickly. Gavin felt his lips stretching into a nasty grin.

“Oh really? Had me fooled for a bit.”

“I have a wide research on how couples are supposed to interact.”

“Yeah? Does that wide research tell you how to make it look convincing?” 

Nines looked at him, expression blank as his LED spun. He imagined a dozen files being copied into his brain - if only it was that easy for humans. 

By the corner of his eye, Gavin could see the waitress walking over to them with his plate. Nines’ expression broke into an almost soft smile, one he would expect from Connor, and he squeezed his hand. The lines around his eyes seemed to lessen as he lightly tilted his head, all the remains of RK900 being replaced by something out of a caretaker model. Or a sappy main character in a romance.

“You tell me, _ darling _.”

Gavin’s hand involuntarily twitched as he sucked in a breath, his heart betraying him and picking up its pace. Nines, of course, noticed, his smile growing wider. The little shit. 

“Your carbonara, sir.” the girl stopped in front of their table, and Gavin let go of Nines’ hand, smiling at her.

“Thanks.”

She nodded with pink tinted cheeks, leaving them alone after carefully placing his plate in front of him. 

When he turned back to Nines, he was giving him a lazy grin, head resting on his hands. Gavin held in the need to roll his eyes and grabbed his silvery, digging in.

“Nice work, Rick. Straight outta romance novel. I’m swooning right now as I dream of kissing you under the moonlight.”

“Please, _ darling _. There’s nothing straight about what I’m doing.”

As he had done with the eye roll, Gavin held in the need to groan. He wouldn’t give Nines yet another satisfaction.

His carbonara was very tasty. It was leagues above the ones he made at home for himself. He wondered if the DPD would cover the expenses.

“Everyone here could be a suspect, by the way.” he said in a low tone, twisting some of the pasta around his fork before gulfing it down. 

Nines blinked, posture getting stiffer and all robotic again. 

“I haven’t detected any suspicious behaviours.”

“For them to have so many victims, it shows they’re careful enough to blend in. Ya can’t judge just by how they appear.”

Nines seemed apprehensive for a moment, LED spinning yellow. Gavin briefly wondered why he kept it. Most androids seemed to hate it, associating it with their past lives as servants or some shit like that. Yet Nines and his older awkward little twin seemed to have no problem with having it on full display. 

Not that Gavin was complaining. It was a good way for him to know what was going on inside Nines’ head. He’d be fucked otherwise. Nines would just stare off into space as he’d analyse or research something and Gavin would think he’d be malfunctioning or something.

“We should write down a better profile, then. The one we have is… vague, to say the least.”

A couple walked past their desk and Gavin found his body clutching around the table. His voice was down, but he couldn’t risk being busted like this. It didn’t help that their body posture told everything but romance.

Nines nodded, LED going blue.

“Duly noted. I’ll start a list on my own, which we can later on pass onto a computer when we have a more concrete profile. Does that appease you?”

Gavin decided to play into their lovers charade and grabbed his glass filled with soda (had to stay sober while on the clock, unfortunately. He'd save drinking for the bar). He fiddled with the straw before wrapping his lips around it, taking a long sip as he stared directly into Nines’s eyes. Said eyes blinked back. Gavin let go with a pop and leaned back in his chair, his other hand pushing the pasta around his plate as he pulled one leg over the other.

“I guess it does, Rick. Now no more words on that shit, we’re in public.”

Which could double as some flirty line for their undercover operation. Nines, of course, didn’t get the clue and just stared judgmentally at his plate.

“Don’t play with your food.”

It would be a long mission.

.

The bar was surprisingly spacious and modern, looking more like a club than anything else. For the low-grade area they were in, Gavin was expecting a claustrophobic space that reeked of booze and sweat as he maneuvered through a thousand bodies just to sit at a table.

Instead, he got a straight line for the counter - white, with a black top, reflecting the red lightning from above - and a wide enough space to breathe and move. It was still eleven, of course, but Gavin knew by experience that coming in earlier secured you a place that, strategically speaking, was best for looking around. The only downside was that they wouldn’t be able to discreetly pass around suspects while this close to the relatively hot bartender, but oh well. Undercover was undercover. The less they spoke in public about their mission, the better. Besides, to get far, they had to attract attention. 

“Babe, c’mon, relax a little.”

As in Nines, by the love of god, you’re supposed to look like an android who has met the cruel kiss of love, not like a harsh cold machine.

Nines got the memo and slouched a little on his stool, looking around. This guy was like a surveillance camera. Looking left, ahead, right, left again-

“Hey, what’s it gonna be?”

Hot bartender was back, giving a million dollar smile as his green eyes glinted. Gavin kind of felt sad. He was technically in love with big bad wolf over there, so he couldn't exactly chat up this guy. That, and this was a potential suspect. Yeah. Being a detective sucked sometimes.

He cleared his throat, smiling back and shifting in his seat to face him. He had to look charming, because he was about to ask for a drink with so little alcohol not even a grandma would be impressed. 

“The Americano cocktail, please. And-” he turned to Nines, tongue locking up. Shit. Did androids drink? Did Nines drink? Well, he knew the plastic loved those flask of bubblegum or strawberry thirium, but did those even have an actual taste? Better, was there even an alcoholic version of android juice? _ Neil Newbon _ should know that.

“Blue Bourbon.”

Nines completing his sentence threw him off a bit, but he worked for the police. He quickly smiled again and looked back at the bartender.

“Yeah, an Americano cocktail and one of those for my boyfriend, please.” the word tasted wrong on his throat.

Ah. How pitiful. The first boyfriend he ever got to introduce to someone was a fake one.

The bartender nodded, brown curly hair bobbing up and down as he walked to the other side of the counter.

A cold hand grasped his wrist and made him nearly squeak. He turned on his sit, seeing Nines’ fingers wrapped around him, his eyes impossibly narrowed.

“Don’t look at the bartender like that, Neil.” imposing, low, ice cutting.

Gavin blinked, mouth gaping.

“I wasn’t-”

“You were.” and he leaned in closer, tilting his head so he could speak directly above Gavin’s ear and _ wow _ . Now _ there _ was the fake boyfriend he was supposed to have “Your eyes are supposed to be for me, and me only. We don’t want our culprit thinking you’re cheating on me with Andrew Donner, now do we?”

“Who-”

Nines pulled back, placing one elbow on the table and resting his head on his hand, the other going down Gavin’s wrist to hold over his hand. He motioned with his head toward the inside of the bar, seconds before two drinks were placed in front of them.

Gavin took the opportunity to ignore the feeling of that plastic prick’s hand on him, and quickly grabbed his glass and shoved the contents down his throat, his lips nearly getting smashed with ice. His ears buzzed from the feeling of that voice so close to them. Why? The sound came from a box, not from air. None of it made sense.

“Crude.” Nines said, as Gavin slammed the glass down on the counter.

“Had to soft bleach my insides.” he motioned for the bartender “One more, please.”

The bartender - Andrew Donner, apparently - whistled and grabbed his glass, going to refill it.

“Rough night? You sure you don’t want shots?” he said, as if an Americano was the strongest drink on the market and Gavin was named Hank Anderson.

“You have no idea.” Gavin said. 

He looked to the side, Nines’ drink still sitting on a particularly tall, wide glass. It was dark blue, with a spiraling yellow straw. He wondered what it tasted like. He’d probably get poisoned if he sipped it.

Andrew set the glass down, chuckling.

“What happened? Some asshole gave you shit for your partner?” he pointed with his thumb at Nines.

Great, he bought it. 

Nines ran his thumb down his hand, his optical units locking on Andrew as the man stared at Gavin. Analysing. Checking heart rates. Probably doing a search on his background and looking up how many times the dude had used his credit card that month. You know, creepy android stuff.

Gavin kept going, buying whatever the guy said.

“That asshole happened to be my father. Apparently, me smoking and pulling three jobs is fine, but god forbid if I bring home an android boyfriend.” Nines’ thumb stopped it’s motion, just lightly pressing between his knuckles.

He took another sip of his drink, just for the dramatic effect. Andrew clicked his tongue, taking in a long breath.

“Man, people will be people, I guess. I’m sure your old man will get around it.” he turned to look at Nines, who quickly blinked as if he hadn’t just been running some SWAT program on the guy “Besides, he doesn't look like the type you’d wanna have problems with.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” he said, putting the glass down. 

“Please, Neil. I’m not that bad.”

“You made a little girl cry once.”

“I didn’t. She ran against me and her ice cream fell on the floor. That’s why she was crying.”

God, they were having banter. 

Well, it had been a funny situation. It was while on the clock, just after an interview with a victim’s family, near the park. It had made Gavin’s week.

Andrew, sweet, hot little Andrew, giggled along with them before straightening back up.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. But before I go, I’ve never seen a type like you before. I mean, I don’t know if this is rude or anything, but… What model are you?”

He didn’t see how that could be rude. But then again, androids seemed to have grown a culture in the short year they were given rights, so he was practically used to it by now.

Until the question clicked.

There was only one operational RK900 unit going around, and he was sitting right there. If they said it and Andrew looked him up, he’d know they were cops.

Fuck.

He gave Nines the best discreet look he could while turning his wrist and grabbing his hand. Nines tilted his head, LED going a completely solid blue.

“It’s not rude at all. I guess for you humans it’s like asking a nationality?” his hand grew warmer below his, risen to a pleasant human temperature “I’m not a model that… used to be sold. I was custom made.” 

That seemed to please Andrew, who smiled back and went to resume his job, approaching a group of girls on the other end of the bar. Gavin released a sigh of relief.

Nines let go of his hand and reached for his drink, taking a sip of it through his obnoxious yellow spiral straw. He gave a pleased hum.

“You must think very lowly of me if you thought I’d say it.” his voice was like velvet, warming up the small amounts of alcohol sitting on Gavin's stomach. 

“You androids have weird brains, who knows what goes through your head.” Gavin retorted bitterly as he took a swing of his own drink. It went down the wrong pipe. He blinked the tears out of his eyes, bending down in a coughing fit and coming head to head with Nines' stupid drink. He made peace with his fate of staring at it like he had sucked on a lemon till Nines spoke again.

“_ Neil. _” Nines said, far too pleasant “Is there something wrong with my drink?”

Gavin pondered between telling him to fuck off or asking if that blue shit actually did anything to him, and the coughing induced brain melting helped the decision.

“Does that even have a taste?” he forced through his airways, raising up. 

Nines’ LED went yellow, yellow, blue.

“Why Neil, I didn't know you were so interested in android customs.”

Gavin kicked him in the leg, only to regret it when his foot connected with hard metal and sparkled in pain. He groaned, doubling over again.

Nines placed a hand on his leg and leaned forward, eyebrows turned into an almost disappointed frown. He knew Nines wasn't emotive. He had purposefully adapted his face to piss him off.

“Don't be childish, love. I hear domestic violence is frowned upon, and against androids is outright discrimination.”

“Fuck you. Your stupid ass being in front me is discrimination.” Gavin wheezed.

Nines smiled and patted his leg before straightening up.

“If you must know, it does emulate flavor in my processors. The alcoholic version gives me symptoms akin to dizziness - the loss of control is barbarian, so I don't particularly fancy it.”

God, he sounded like a stuck-up jerk.

“You're an android. It just emulates, you know jack shit of the flavor.”

Nines’ LED spun yellow for a split second. His body went mechanical as he leaned forward and took another sip of his extravagant drink. He popped his lips from the straw far too wetly for something made out of plastic and silicone, a cold grey gaze looking almost purple under the red lights.

“What?” Gavin huffed.

Nines stared for longer, like a surveillance camera. His perfect little optical units were probably capturing everything and compiling it into a video somewhere on his drive. The thought made the hairs on his arms rise. He took one final gulp of his glass while keeping the eye contact, wondering for the first time why Nines was even having android bourbon while he suffered with a kid’s cocktail.

Nines looked away, LED blue but not spinning. His eyes focused somewhere on the bar.

“Is this what couples do?” he asked.

Gavin looked between the two of them and could just see his paycheck flying away.

“Fuck no.” he said, slamming the glass down “You don't look interested enough. This is a club, stop being a prude.”

Nines blinked at that.

“Oh. I don't look interested?”

Surprisingly, no taunting “_ my bad _” followed that.

“You think?” Gavin scooted closer to him, or as close as their separate stools allowed. Their knees bumped, soft flesh hardened by muscle against silicone cushioned metal “Don't worry, Neil Newbon here will give you a lover 101. Give me your hand.”

Nines looked hesitant, if the time he took to process the order meant anything, but complied. Gavin grabbed his still warm palm and forced it on his tight, raising it up to where it was nearly indecent. His body reacted far too warmly to that.

Nines, however, had the best reaction. His face fell stupidity open in shock as his LED flashed red.

“Detec-”

“_ Shhh _-” Gavin smiled, smug enough to look dirty “We're dating, aren't we? I bet Richard wants to get his plastic dildo wet really bad, doesn't he?” he leaned forward, face mere inches away from Nines’ ear. He dropped his voice an octave “You can touch anywhere besides, of course, my crotch. Pretend you actually have feelings and find me hot as shit, ‘cause I don't wanna lose this case.”

He pulled away slightly, catching a glance of startled yellow before Nines’ gaze hardened, the light becoming a constant and unspinning blue. The android clenched his hand around Gavin's tight, the other reaching tentatively to his face. Gavin leaned his cheek into it, nearly humming at how warm Nines’ body was - he guessed androids weren't all that bad, if they could change body temperatures like that.

Nines kept looking blankly at him as he stroked his cheek with his thumb.

“What? No sex manual on that computer of yours?” he said.

Nines shook his head.

“When I joined the- the place that brought us together, I didn't think this was what I'd end up doing.”

Gavin laughed, actually laughed.

“Me neither. But we gotta at least be better than your brother and his sugar daddy.”

Nines cringed at that.

“Not my brother. And don't refer to Anderson in such a way.”

Gavin grinned.

“Talking of them, we need a… potential candidate list.” 

Nines nodded and leaned forward, their faces inches from each other. He blinked, and blue spun on his head as he brought the hand on his tight up his torso. Gavin tensed when it reached his chest, and Nines - of course - noticed it but said nothing. The hand on his face dropped to his neck, and Gavin shivered.

“I have compiled a file of everyone in the room.” he nearly whispered against his lips.

“How.” Gavin stated more than asked, voice hoarse. 

Nines’ eyes dropped to his crotch and Gavin almost felt ashamed of how hot he felt in that moment. Screw natural body reactions.

“I hacked the cameras.” Nines looked up, tilting his head. The hand on his chest moved to his neck too, and Nines let them rest there while Gavin's were clenched on his thighs.

“Isn't that illegal?”

“Oh, darling. What are you? _ A cop _?”

Gavin's lips twitched.

“I could be, if you want. I'd put one of those skimpy officer costumes on, even.”

There was a pause where Gavin knew Nines was looking it up, before he pulled away with wide eyes and pursed lips. Gavin smirked and placed his hands on top of Nines', keeping them on his neck.

“Don't turn shy on me now, _ Richard _.”

The name brought Nines out of his virgin stupor. He pulled his hands away and finished his drink before standing up. Gavin frowned at him.

“Found someone who could be useful on the dancefloor. Miranda Oak, thirty eight, causasian blond.” it was low enough to be stuffed out by the music and rumble of the bar, yet the outburst gave Gavin something akin to whiplash.

“Woah, champion, tone it down.” he cursed.

Nines offered him a raised eyebrow before moving to the dancefloor. The place had become packed while they borderline fake flirted with each other. His boxers felt a little bit too uncomfortable as he stood up, but he followed Nines like everything was normal, like the stupid android hadn’t seen it with his little android analysis system. Briefly, he wondered if Nines would file the moment into his “natural human reactions” drawer. Watching his lean figure maneuver the club made him ask himself if the android was even into that kind of stuff.

He gulped the thought down and picked up his pace. _ No _. He had more to think about.

He managed to grab Nines’ wrist before the android disappeared from sight. His body was surprisingly light, turning towards him with a single pull - that, or maybe Nines just let him, given the closed off expression he received. Gavin stopped with one foot between Nines’ legs, his whole body pushing into the android’s personal space.

“Don’t be so in everybody’s face.” Gavin mouthed. Nines tilted his head to the right.

“I’m not new into this, _ Neil _.”

Gavin bit his tongue as his fingers clenched around Nines’ wrist. Screw the mission going well. What went through his head, even? Maybe faking something he couldn’t feel was too much for the poor metal stupor.

“Then stop acting like Robocop and _ stay with me _.”

Nines stared at him. Gavin felt a couple of eyes glued on them, and realized having what appeared to be a couple’s argument on their first night probably wasn’t the best for the case. He cussed inwardly, eyes shifting momentarily to the pocket where he kept his pack of Camels. He’d chainsmoke till dawn as soon as they left.

He gave a tentative tug to Nines’ wrist. It felt like pulling a truck with his bare hands, the android holding his ground and only blinking. Gavin tugged again, this time with a little bit more determination behind it, and Nines seemed to get the memo and got closer. Gavin tried very hard not to get on his tiptoes as he got close to Nines’ face, trying his best to whisper in his ear while looking like they were having a private lovers’ make up in the middle of a club.

“Who’s Miranda?”

Nines lowered his head, nearly breathing into his ear despite not needing to breathe at all. The lights caught in the exposed skin of his neck, collarbones, hands - reflecting blue, red, purple, and blue again like a tantalizing loop.

“Blond woman, looks younger than she is. Has a beer in one hand and hasn’t stopped staring since she got here twenty minutes ago. Has a record of android harassment and attempted molestation.”

Gavin hummed, mustering up some balls of steel before looping his thumbs on the belt hoops of Nines’ pants. His pants. The pants that he owned but Nines was currently wearing. He pulled the android closer and tried not to tense up when two large hands were placed on his hips.

“Is she still looking?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Gavin shifted his body in tempo with the song playing, peeking around until he found exactly who Nines was talking about. At the edge of the club, behind two talking teenagers and leaning against the wall with a beer, stood a short woman with wild curly hair and a top that looked two sizes too small. She was, indeed, staring. Gavin looked away.

There was really no way to calmly talk about the situation at hand without leaving Miranda’s sight. So he pressed their cheeks together, warm against pleasantly cool, and mouthed the words as low and as close to Nines’ ear as possible. 

“Since you’re not new into this, got any ideas on how to approach her?”

“She doesn’t seem like she’s leaving any time soon. Give it time.”

Nines leaned into him, shifting his body so that their hips pressed flush against each other. 

“I could play the jealous boyfriend card and ask why she’s staring so hard.” he breathed out.

“How do you know she’s staring at me?”

“Android harassment and-”

“Neil doesn’t know that.” was the dry delivery over the bass line. Gavin bit his lip.

“If she harasses androids, I doubt she’d pass the challenge if she saw you alone. _ Then _I’d play the boyfriend card.”

Nines seemed to ponder it for a second before nodding, tilting his head as if looking in her direction.

“Harassment would be a good excuse to bring her into custody.”

Gavin moved them out of the way from an incoming group of people, still swaying. He noticed Nines was following his movements, not stumbling even once, their bodies moving against each other yet still politely not grinding. 

Nines seemed fine with it all, for once not looking as uncomfortable as usual. He couldn’t fit the idea of him liking this type of environment on his brain, but then again, his brain also never thought they’d ever be in this position. 

“Do you plastic fuckers feel the music?” he found himself saying, his voice being absorbed by the gradually raising music. He couldn’t see it, but he bet Nines raised an eyebrow at that.

“I can’t speak for every android.”

“Well, do _ you _ feel it?”

Nines was quiet for a few seconds. Someone bumped into him and he let his body slump forward, forehead resting on Gavin’s shoulder. His body was colder than the air, and Gavin unconsciously leaned into it.

“It’s… enjoyable, yes.”

Somehow, it felt like a small victory.

His eyes drifted to where Miranda was standing, her head turning when he caught her staring. Give it time, Nines had said. So he did.

With so many people around, looking for another suspect without Nines background reading would be pointless. Besides, it had been a while since he went out clubbing. He’d enjoy a few minutes like a damned teenager as much as he damn pleased. He pulled away from Nines long enough to lit a cigarette, getting a glare as the smoke invaded the android’s precious venting system. He blew the smoke on his face just to piss him off.

The lights deemed to a solid purple dancing around in the midst of occasional flashes, his smoke curling into the air and mixing with the rest around it. Nines turned him around in the little space they had and pressed his chest against his back, swaying with his arms wrapped around his torso. Gavin leaned into it, ignoring how the forceful turn twisted his insides. He took another nicotine filled drag.

They had all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! If so, please leave a comment or kudos!  
This fic is a way for me to explore android anatomy and reactions tbh.  
ALSO WARNING, next chapter will include mentions of content that may be triggering to some. I'll make sure to properly tag it and mention it in the beggining notes.

**Author's Note:**

> See you next chapter!  
If you're liking it so far, please leave a comment or kudo.  
My fandom tumblr is @152centimeters, but I don't really post DBH there.  
Have the rest of a nice day!


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